W. and VuVuVu

One night after dinner, I was invited to watch a movie with my host family. I didn't have homework, or any intention of going out in the drizzle, across the river, to a sleezy danceclub, so I was happy to sit on the couch and watch the TV screen which is about the size of my laptop's monitor with my Italian hosts. On Rai Due (one of the government owned stations) they were showing Oliver Stone's W. Before the movie started, an Italian journalist did an interview with Stone, although his questions were better classified as monologues during which Oliver Stone made bored and/or pained faces. I had not seen the movie in the U.S. but was surprised it was already on television here since it only came out in the fall. My Italian is progressing, but I think any humor contained was lost in the translation and re-translation that occured. I got more out of the family's facial expressions as indicators of humor.

We watch the news most nights before or after dinner. The first three stations are government opperations, the next three "MediaNet" channels are owned by the Prime Minister, the unpopular (at least with my hosts) Berlusconi. Every time something related to the U.S. comes on, I am encouraged to watch, and then they ask me comprehension questions. I have learned to read the news online, in English, before dinner to prepare myself. I do make some effort to read the Repubblica everyday. Speaking of online, this reminds me of a relatively unimportant bit of information I have learned--the Italian alphabet does not include "w" so when you try to recount a web adress, you begin with "VuVuVu."

As for inauguration night,a group of us went out to an establishment most certainly geared towards American students, but it has the largest big screens and the cheapest beer. There were a few Italians there besides the employees, but mostly hundreds of American students packed into this crowded pub to watch a blundered oath and an inspiring speech. With my knee-length black coat and black leather boots I do my best not to scream AMERICAN on Florentine sidewalks, I try to speak Italian when I am ordering food or asking for directions, but inside that bar, I realized I cannot deny my allegiance to American ideals. My national identity reinforced by the contrast.